


A Favor for a Favor

by Sans_Virtuosity



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Amaris Hawke, Daily Writing, F/M, Fluff, I originally just wanted to write a piece in Fenris' mansion, My Hawke cherishes Fenris so damn much, but it turned into this, even though she sucks at expressing it, i don't even know anymore man, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 15:36:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4840925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sans_Virtuosity/pseuds/Sans_Virtuosity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Promises come in many forms, and declarations of devotion don't always have to be in words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Favor for a Favor

**Author's Note:**

> Hah. Here's more Daily Writing that I needed to share with you guys. I've been going back through my fic folders today and rereading a lot of my one-shots, and realizing that some of them are actually pretty damn cute. 
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

 

 

"What do you think, Fenris?"

Hawke twirled around his foyer, her coat-tails swaying behind her. She had just picked it up this morning, having been out shopping with Merrill throughout lowtown. A leathercrafter from Tevinter set up an unassuming little booth next to her favorite weapons stall, and it just begged to be investigated. The dark coat was knee-length, and made of the softest leather she'd ever felt; It was love at first sight.

Fenris, however, seemed less than enthusiastic.

"It's a coat, Hawke. I fail to see why you find it so impressive."

Hawke stopped mid-twirl, and came up to him in two swift strides. He put out his hands in defense, and Hawke sighed.

"Look, just... feel it." she reached out for his hand, and he hesitantly gave it up. She pulled it to the collar of the coat, and stroked his forearm encouragingly. "It's like yours. Well, not as worn-in, yet. But with a few weeks of wear, it'll be soft as a mabari's underbelly."

Fenris snorted, and pulled his hand away, only to fold his arms around himself again. "It does seem comfortable, I'll give you that. Does this mean you're finally retiring that godawful tunic Aveline gave you?"

Hawke smirked and flapped the tail of her coat one more time for good measure. "That's right. Damn thing was nearly wearing through the front, anyways."

After that, the two lapsed into a comfortable silence, Fenris leaning against the stair banister, and Hawke engrossed in inspecting every inch of her new acquisition. After some good time, their eyes met, and Fenris cleared his throat.

"I suppose I should invite you up, seeing as you took such a _great_ detour to make your way here."

"Hey, you know Hightown gets busy in the afternoons. I could've just stayed in Lowtown all day and gotten drunk with Varric." Hawke grumbled, "I bet he would appreciate the coat."

Fenris motioned Hawke up the stairs, and followed close behind. "So you instead elected to go out of your way to see me? And still intend to get drunk, I assume."

Hawke thrust her hands deep into her new pockets. "I- I enjoy your company, Fenris. You'd think you'd understand that by now."

They entered the room Fenris mainly occupied; the only room in the mansion showing any sign of being lived-in. Hawke sat before the fire, which was still burning steadily from whenever Fenris last tended it. Fenris quickly ducked out of the room without a word, presumably to find a few bottles of whatever fancy spirits were left in the cellars.

The Book of Shartan she'd gifted him a few months ago sat opened on the small wooden table by his bedside. She debated going over and checking his progress, but she wasn't sure he wouldn't find it a breach of privacy, so she instead removed her coat and inspected the seams.

It truly was a magnificent piece of craftsmanship. It was in a similar northern style as Fenris', and the leather just as dark. It was sleeveless, and longer, but the second it crossed her line of sight, he crossed her mind. Nearly three years had gone by since they spent a single passionate night together, but she hadn't given up hope. A few brief kisses had been won since then, and more than one drunken near-confessions initiated.

As much as Fenris tried to pretend that Hawke didn't care for him, she knew he understood how much he meant to her. Aside from speaking directly about their state of relationship, Fenris was never one to hold back his emotions. He told her often how much he respected and admired her, and she tried to return the favor as often as she could. Today was one such day. She had hoped Fenris would make the same connection to the coat that she did, that he would see her own statement of devotion; just as he wore the Amell crest at his hip, she would wear his leather, and fight beside him as long as he would have her.

Hawke was deep in thought when Fenris finally returned to the room, four bottles of liquor in hand. He silently handed her two of them, and sat down beside her on the bench. One of his bottles had already been opened, and a quarter drained.

"Getting an early start? I guess it's true what they say about elves-" Hawke puffed up her chest and adopted her most pompous noble impression. "Nothing but drunks and thieves!" She followed with the most ridiculous haughty laugh she could muster, and Fenris chuckled along with her.

"Ah yes. I'm sure if the noblewoman from next door saw me now she'd have the entire guard at my doorstep by nightfall. Aveline would get a kick out of that."

Hawke pulled the cork of her own bottle out with her teeth, and set to catch up with Fenris. As she drank, she noticed he looked at her with a fondness she hadn't seen from him in some time. She nearly choked.

Fenris reached out to steady her as she coughed, the warm look on his face quickly replaced with concern. She grabbed onto his bicep for support, but cleared her throat with little trouble. She downed the light trauma with another gulp of alcohol, and Fenris shook his head and took another sip from his own bottle. He didn't move to dislodge Hawke from his arm.

"I-" Fenris began, and turned his head away from her, instead focusing on the dancing flames before them. "The coat. Don't misunderstand; I understand why you chose it. And I am... flattered. And overwhelmed. Forgive my inadequate response, I just-"

Hawke laughed, and Fenris turned a quizzical eyebrow towards her.

"No, I'm just glad you caught my meaning. That's all that matters."

Fenris nodded, and leaned his head into hers. For a while, neither of them spoke, content to simply spend time with one another. After all the bottles had been drained, and the fire burned to its last embers, Fenris finally pressed his lips to Hawke's temple and whispered,

"Thank you."

 

* * *

 


End file.
